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Pagina 610 - My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree, Murder, stern murder, in the dir'st degree ; All several sins, all used in each degree, Throng to the bar, crying all, — Guilty ! guilty ! I shall despair.
Pagina 604 - I will be master of what is mine own : She is my goods, my chattels ; she is my house, My household stuff, my field, my barn, My horse, my ox, my ass, my any thing ; And here she stands, touch her whoever dare ; I'll bring mine action on the proudest he That stops my way in Padua.
Pagina 496 - To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run, How many make the hour full complete, How many hours bring about the day, How many days will finish up the year, How many years a mortal man may live.
Pagina 496 - Ah, what a life were this ! how sweet ! how lovely ! Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep, Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy To kings, that fear their subjects
Pagina 610 - I shall despair. There is no creature loves me; And, if I die, no soul will pity me : — Nay, wherefore should they ? since that I myself Find in myself no pity to myself. Methought, the souls of all that I had murder'd Came to my tent: and every one did threat To-morrow's vengeance on the head of Richard.
Pagina 175 - HUNG be the heavens with black , yield day to night! Comets, importing change of times and states, Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky ; And with them scourge the bad revolting stars, That have consented unto Henry's death ! Henry the fifth, too famous to live long ! England ne'er lost a king of so much worth.
Pagina 956 - Laud be to God ! — even there my life must end. It hath been prophesied to me many years, I should not die but in Jerusalem ; Which vainly I supposed the Holy Land. — But bear me to that chamber ; there I'll lie ; In that Jerusalem shall Harry die.
Pagina 610 - Give me another horse! bind up my wounds! Have mercy, Jesu! Soft! I did but dream. O! coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me. The lights burn blue. It is now dead midnight. Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh.
Pagina 497 - ll slay more gazers than the basilisk ; I 'll play the orator as well as Nestor, Deceive more slily than Ulysses could, And, like a Sinon, take another Troy. I can add colours to the chameleon. Change shapes with Proteus for advantages, And set the...